


The Dangerous Painting

by espark



Series: Distract and Motivate [2]
Category: The Riyria Revelations - Michael J. Sullivan
Genre: Action/Adventure, Consensual, Friends With Benefits, Heist, M/M, Male Slash, POV First Person, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-30 22:26:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8551552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/espark/pseuds/espark
Summary: A heist story inspired by the plot of the film, How to Steal a Million (1966). Royce and Hadrian have been living in Medford for a couple month (takes place shortly after the events in The Rose and Thorn.) The story is from Hadrian’s POV."It had been over a year since that night we’d first met Albert and now we had separate rooms at the Rose and Thorn. Although our ardor had cooled since those first months, in some ways Royce and I were more intimate than ever. It was uncanny how we anticipated the other’s moves and knew precisely what the other was thinking. We worked together seamlessly. Arcadius had been right all along and we were still good together."





	1. The Players

I was sitting at the bar of the Rose and Thorn thinking about Royce. I hadn’t seen him all day and hadn’t touched him in over a week. I never thought I’d say it, but I actually missed the selfish little thief. He was so talented - he could pick any lock in less than a minute, scale any wall as agile as a cat, and make my body nearly sing with pleasure. Living the road together had been maddening at times, but what had begun as forced intimacy between us had turned into real intimacy.

I was only half listening to Dixon “... and the judge asked ‘But where are the cows?’ and the painter answered, ‘Well, seeing as they’d eaten all the grass, there wasn’t much point in them hanging around. So they went too.”

I clapped slowly, “Good one Dixon. Have you heard the one about the crow and lion?” We’d been nursing our pints and swapping tall tales for over an hour. With the bartender, there was never a shortage of stories to tell. The common room of the tavern was half full of a mixed group of journeymen, shopkeepers, and off duty men-at-arms. Although the place always smelled of ale, savory meats, and pipe smoke. It felt like home, or at least as close as I’d ever come to calling a place home.

Emerald leaned out from the doorway to the kitchen and called out, “Oh that’s a good one. I want to hear you tell it.” She bounced over, her trim body moving hypnotically, and sank down into my lap. Emerald was petite and young and very pretty. She smiled up at me, her eyes all fire and sass, “Go on Hadrian, provide some entertainment for us.”

I couldn’t resist her playful tone and replied, “Perhaps I should tell the story about the milkmaid and her butter churn. That’s much more ... entertaining.”

Dixon was about to say something decidedly boring when a handsome blond man in a loud purple tunic, tight blue hose and impressive plumed hat strolled in and called out, “Hadrian! How fortunate for me find you. You look the very picture of good health.”

Emerald looked disappointed and hopped off my lap. She knew there’d be no more flirting when business was at hand.

I smiled, stood up and reached out to greet the flamboyant noble, “Albert, how are you? Got a job for us?”

After clapping me on the back, Albert started heading for the old storage room that we used for meetings at the back of the inn. We called it The Dark Room. “Yes, might Royce be here?”

I grabbed my pint and followed the viscount. Even though I hadn’t seen Royce all day, I knew that if he was anywhere in the tavern, or even across the street at Medford House, he would have heard Albert’s entrance. “He’ll be along any minute now.” I answered.

I remembered when Royce and I had first met Albert months ago. Royce and I’d had quite the argument. We had both been proud and stubborn. Thinking back, I realized how close it had come to nearly ending our partnership barely a year after it had begun. We had been tricked into confronting Albert, or rather I’d been tricked. The viscount had been a pathetic drunk, nearly naked and squatting in an abandoned barn. Royce had seen through the ruse but had let me take the bait. I’d been angry at Royce for letting us lose all our gear and horses just to prove a point. Even after Royce realized we could make good use of Viscount Albert Winslow, he still wouldn’t admit that it had been a good thing I’d agreed to investigate the vagabond in the barn. He insisted it was a mistake and that I was naive to take people at their word. 

When we’d bedded down that night, Royce had gone up to the barn loft. I had debated whether to join Royce or find a place on the ground across from Albert. At first I’d thought that with Albert only a few feet away, perhaps Royce was more comfortable sleeping apart. I knew Royce was an intensely private person. He hated showing affection if anyone else was watching; it was too much like vulnerability to him. It was a small miracle that he’d come to trust me enough to reveal his attraction to me. I decided to lay down in the straw on the ground alone, the anger still simmering inside me. 

At first I had tossed and turned, uncomfortable and cold. Almost every night during our travels, Royce and I had slept together. His head invariably ended up on my shoulder, usually with his back pressed to my chest. The position was convenient since I always woke up stiff as iron, and with our height differences, spooning worked great. At that moment, lying in the ruined barn by myself, with only itchy straw for company, I suddenly felt very alone. It sounded like Albert was asleep. I pictured Royce sleeping only a few feet away, probably being smug, and I couldn’t take it. Albert could go to hell if he didn’t like working for two men who slept together.

I climbed up to the loft and lay down next to Royce, just inches away. I wondered if he would stay that way, or worse, move away. Then, soundlessly, he turned to face me, tucking one arm up next to my chest, the other arm on my side, his head resting on my shoulder. The tension I’d been feeling drained from my body and I relaxed, feeling his familiar warmth against me. That night, as I drifted off to sleep, the wind occasionally rustling through the ruined roof, I knew we’d be alright; we were still partners.

It had been over a year since that night we’d first met Albert and now we had separate rooms at the Rose and Thorn. Although our ardor had cooled since those first months, in some ways Royce and I were more intimate than ever. It was uncanny how we anticipated the other’s moves and knew precisely what the other was thinking. We worked together seamlessly. Arcadius had been right - we were good together.

Sure enough, when Albert and I entered the small dark room at the back of tavern, Royce was already there. His hood was back which meant he was in a good mood, or at least, he wasn’t in a bad mood. 

“Good to see you pal,” I said smiling broadly at Royce.

“Hello Royce,” Albert said as he sat down. “I believe we’ll be earning a bit more gold soon. Lady Audrey Bonnet wants you to steal painting for her.”

Royce nodded, “Hello Albert.” Then to me, “Hadrian,” then back to Albert, “Sounds promising. Go on.”

I took a seat, propped my feet up on the table, and took a sip of ale. We fell into a comfortable rhythm, Royce and I listening to Albert explain the job offer and assessing it for risk and potential.

Albert explained, “Lady Audrey Bonnet and her brother are renowned art collectors. Their family, although noble, has no land. For generations they have depended on the acquisition and sale of valuable art for an income. Her brother, Lord Bonnet, is currently in Delgos on an expedition. They keep most of what they collect for themselves, occasionally selling a statue or a painting from time to time. The Bonnet house is a reportedly a treasure trove of precious works of art from all over Elan.”

I asked, “But we’re not stealing from her, we will be stealing for her?”

Albert answered, “Precisely. Apparently Lord Philip has acquired a painting that Lady Audrey has been trying to locate for years. It is a very old devotional painting by a famous religious artist, Benvenuto. Lord Philip plans to host a salon to exhibit this painting. It will be a huge embarrassment for the Bonnets and Lady Audrey wants you to steal it before the exhibition.”

Royce’s eyes narrowed slightly and his brow furrowed. It was that look he got when he knew something didn’t make sense, “If we steal if from Philip and give it to Audrey, she’ll never be able to display it in public or sell it. What’s in it for her?”

I answered, “Like Albert said, this is about reputation. She’ll be embarrassed if some other art lover shows her up.”

“How much is she offering?” Royce asked Albert.

“She’ll give you 10 gold tenets as an advance and 30 more once you deliver the painting.” 

I sat up in my seat. “What do you think Royce? This job sounds pretty good to me.” I liked that we’d make a good profit and the only thing to get harmed would be some fancy noble’s pride.

Royce caught the look in my eye. He knew I preferred to avoid fighting, or rather killing. He said, “First, I want to ask Lady Audrey some questions and have a look at where the painting is being kept. If everything is as straightforward as it sounds, I agree, this job sounds fine.”

“Excellent.” Albert said. This job would mean an easy profit for him too. 

Then, Albert told Royce where the painting was being kept at Lord Philip’s estate. The viscount also agreed he would bring Lady Audrey for a meeting the next day to finalize the deal.

After Albert bid us goodnight and left the room, Royce came over and slipped his arms around my waist. The embrace was unexpected, but not unwelcome. The side of his face pressed into my collar bone. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. It felt good. I could smell the combination of linen, wood smoke and lavender on him - the smell of Medford House. We held each other for minute, then he let go.

He said “I’m going to have a look at Lord Philip’s property tonight. I want to see how difficult it might be to obtain the painting. If there is a lot of security, we may want to up the price.” It went unsaid, but I knew he also meant that he’d be out most of the night and I shouldn't expect him in my bed.

I nodded, “Sure. See you tomorrow then buddy.”

As I fell asleep, I couldn’t help thinking of how Royce was spending more time with Gwen. Not that I blamed him. Gwen was amazing - determined and caring, smart and beautiful, ambitious and wise beyond her years. When she’d taken Royce and I in and nursed us back from the brink of death over a year ago, I nearly fell in love with her myself. Everyone loved her. I had even heard that Dixon had offered to ‘make her an honest woman.’ But it hadn’t taken me long to realize that it wasn’t me that she had feelings for. From the very beginning, she had been in love with Royce. 

He had been strangely friendly and appreciative to her, but he never showed any sign of sharing Gwen’s feelings. In fact, Royce and I had kissed for the first time on the roof of Medford house. As we traveled all over Avryn the year before, working and living together, I hadn’t thought much of Gwen or Medford. Royce had quickly become my best friend, and a friend with benefits. But now that we’d taken up residence at the Rose and Thorn, just by being in her presence, Gwen was working her magic on Royce.


	2. The Hook

The next morning, Royce showed up while I was in the stable yard, doing my fighting drills. It was a good day for practice, the sky was overcast and the yard was quiet. I’d been practicing for over an hour and, even with the cool weather, I had gotten all damp with sweat. As I lunged and attacked an invisible foe, Royce watched. I was wearing only my leather britches and boots. I knew he appreciated my strength and skill and it gave me a little thrill as his eyes followed my every movement. 

I asked him “So how’d it go last night? Find out anything helpful about the new job?” 

He answered, “Yes, I learned some very helpful information. First, the painting is locked away in Lord Philip’s study at his residence here in the city. He keeps the key to the safe with him at all times and even sleeps with it at night. There are two guards stationed at the front of his house, but they don’t seem like much of a threat.” His fierce gaze never left me as I continued practicing.

I was breathing hard as I said. “Sounds like stealing the painting won’t be difficult. What else?” I sensed there was something more Royce had discovered, but hadn’t said.

“I talked with a portrait painter in the artisan quarter named Helder about the job. I’d heard about her when I was in the Black Diamond. She does high quality forgeries as well as portraits. Anyway, it turns out the subject matter of this particular painting by Benvenuto is what makes it so valuable, and dangerous.”

I finished my last stance, put away my sword and caught my breath. “How can a painting be dangerous?” I walked over to a barrel of water. I grabbed a tin cup, drank my fill and then splashed my face, neck and chest. The cool water felt good against my skin. I caught Royce looking me up and down.

Royce walked over to me as I grabbed my shirt from where I’d placed it on a fence. He said, “From what I understand, it depicts one of the Novronian emperors in an unorthodox light. Something that the church deems heretical.” I was about to pull my shirt over my head, but Royce’s hand shot out and caught my arm. 

“Wait.” He purred. His gaze was hungry and I couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal.

The yard was empty and only a few of the stalls had horses stabled. The air smelled of fresh straw, leather and horse manure. Royce and I hadn’t fooled around in a while and I missed it. I didn’t know if this place was private enough for Royce although he certainly would hear if anyone approached.

I held his gaze. “Do we have some time … before our meeting with Lady Audrey?”

He nodded and pulled me into one of the empty stables. 

We moved into the shadows of an empty stall. He reached up and put one hand around my neck and the other around my waist, pulling me into a hungry kiss. I leaned down into the kiss and grabbed his hair. I sensed he was already pretty aroused from watching me in the yard. I could feel that Royce wanted to be fast and my need quickly matched his own. He kissed me again and again, his tongue darting into my mouth. It was uncanny how we knew how to move together, anticipating what the other wanted. It was like we had some invisible connection, a link that pulsed between us. I slid my hands down to his the small of his back and pressed his body into mine. He loved feeling the length of our bodies pressed close together. I felt his erection, thick against the inside of my thigh, and it made my cock strain more. Royce’s hand moved around from my waist to cup my ass through my leather pants. Then his fingers caressed around and down, slipping between my legs to touch my balls through the leather, damp with sweat. I knew what he wanted next.

A groan escaped me and I looked around for a place to sit. Because of our difference in height, we’d learned that it was best if I sat and he kneeled down in front of me. I spotted a bale of hay, dismissed it as being too scratchy, and then saw a wooden crate in the corner. I pulled away from Royce’s kiss but grabbed his hand. I moved to the crate, turned it on its side, and sat down, praying it would hold my weight. The slats of the wooden box creaked, but held. I stood up briefly to pull down my breeches and watched Royce do the same. He grinned wickedly at the sight of my naked cock, full and straining. He got down on his knees, placing one hand around my length and the other down to stroke himself. His tongue lapped up and down my shaft, teasing the sensitive flap of skin each time. 

I shifted and the crate beneath me let out an ominous cracking sound. Royce paused for a moment, waiting to see if my perch would give out, and it was sweet torture. “Don’t stop,” I breathed. I moaned when he went back to licking the ridge along the bottom of my cock. I loved watching Royce take me in his mouth, seeing how his head moved, my erection disappearing and reappearing from his face. His mouth pulsed and sucked, making me arch into him. I closed my eyes to focus on the sensation. God he was good at this. Pleasure gathered inside me and I shot my load down his throat. He kept me in his mouth, sucking gently, enjoying my taste, while he stroked himself to climax. When he was finished, I pulled him up to my lap to kiss him. I tasted my sour load on his mouth and savored the intimacy of it. Then the wooden crate we were sitting on collapsed and we crashed to the ground. We sprawled for a moment, splintered lengths of wood beneath us, out pants down around our ankles. I began to laugh at the absurdity and Royce’s face lit up with a broad grin. We untangled ourselves and carefully got to our feet, putting ourselves back in order.

Moments later, Royce said softly, “Albert is inside and it sounds like he brought Lady Audrey. Shall we go meet with them?” 

I brushed some straw and splinters off of my clothes and followed Royce to our meeting room. Albert was lounging comfortably next to a strikingly handsome woman. Albert made the introductions. Lady Audrey was a thin handsome woman, proud and poised. Unlike most other nobles that hired us, she did not seem uncomfortable in the tavern. 

Audrey spoke, her voice silky and her words enunciated beautifully, “Viscount Winslow told me he passed along my request, but that you need some additional information before you would accept the task. Please, I need your help. What more do you need to know?”

Royce studied her a moment before saying, “I’m curious to know more about this painting. Where did Philip get it? Why do you want it so much? Also, what will you do with it? You won’t be able to display it.”

Audrey answered coolly, “Of course I won’t display it, I’m not a fool.” She took a breath and said more calmly, “The painting is four centuries old and a unique masterpiece by Celini Benvenuto. It depicts the Emperor Narion with one of his knights, Jerish Grelad.” She continued but now her poise was cracking, showing her frustration, “It isn’t fair. My brother and I have been trying to locate this work of art for years. After all our efforts, Lord Philip came across it by chance at an auction in Rochelle. I offered to buy it from him, for an excellent price I might add, but he refused.” 

I suggested, “Could we replace it with a copy? You could keep the original and he’d be none the wiser. We know a good forger, right Royce?”

“No!” She immediately answered. Her desperation was plain to see, “There isn’t time. I must have that painting, and before Philip gets a chance to show it off at his salon next week.” 

I looked at Royce and shrugged. He saw that I was fine with the job if he was.

Royce said, “Okay, we’ll steal the painting, but for 20 gold upfront and 30 when we deliver it to you.”

Luckily, Audrey was looking at Royce and didn’t see my look of surprise. I wondered why Royce had asked for more money, and so much of it before we even started, but I knew he had his reasons. 

Audrey didn’t hesitate, “Agreed.” She pull out her purse and placed 20 gold tenents on the table. 

As if on cue, Gwen knocked and then entered the room. She looked lovely, as always. She wore a gown of crimson velvet and her rich dark hair swayed as she closed the door behinder her. She was carrying a tray with a bottle of wine, a mug of ale, and four empty glasses. She had the strangest habit of entering our meetings at precisely the right moment, as if she knew exactly what would happen and when was the best time to interrupt. Royce stood up to greet her and a smile lit his face. I was taken aback; it was like looking at a different person. Royce never smiled, well at least not like that. When he smiled, it was more like a sneer or a smirk. But this smile, the one he showed Gwen, was one of pure joy.

Her face mirrored his unadulterated happiness. “How about a drink to seal the deal?” She set down the tray and poured the drinks.

Royce’s gaze was locked on Gwen, “Thanks.” He answered. Again, I was struck by this uncharacteristic behavior. Royce never thanked anyone for anything and yet here he was saying ‘thanks’ for a couple of drinks.

I felt something shift inside. Like a wave crashing over me, realization hit and I nearly had to sit down. Royce was falling in love with Gwen.

Gwen lifted her glass and toasted, “To the next venture!” Everyone clinked their glasses, but I stood still, unable to speak. Then, Royce turned to look at me, concern darkening his face. 

I came to my senses and quickly joined the toast, “Here, here.” I sputtered and took a drink. I could only wonder what Royce’s feelings for Gwen would mean for our partnership.


	3. The Shut Out

Several days later, I met Royce in at the side of Lord Philip’s mansion. It was late afternoon, the day the before the planned art exhibition. I knew we’d have to steal the painting soon. I’d been posing as journeyman blacksmith and assessing the Lord’s matched pair of grays for new horse shoes. Fortunately, the horses’ shoes were in need of replacement and I could honestly do the work myself. Royce and I had been watching the house for a couple days now. While I had gotten to know the servants and their routines, he had stayed on the roof and listened. 

It was a tried and true strategy for us - me on the inside and Royce on the outside. We’d worked several variations to this tactic, although it generally involved a job requiring strength for me and picking locks for him. 

We were standing near the formal garden next to some decorative shrubs. It had rained earlier and the smell of damp earth and ivy filled the air. The sky was still thick with clouds, the air heavy with moisture.

Royce said, “I think we’re just about ready to make our move.” He kept his hood up. Small drops of rain still clung to his cloak.

I nodded ready to hear his plan. “We going with the standard ‘distract and motivate’ approach?” 

Royce had taught me early on about the key components to a successful theft. First, you had to distract the mark long enough to obtain the target. Second, and if at all possible, use compassion, embarrassment or some other means of motivation to prevent the mark from retaliating or reporting the loss. Royce and I worked together like a well oiled machine, calibrated and reliable, except of course when someone threw a wrench in the gears.

Royce replied, “This evening, you’ll start a diversion in the yard. I’m thinking you might pick a fight with one of the servants? Something loud and entertaining that will draw everyone out of the house to watch. Lord Philip will be dining with Lord Daref tonight so you can begin once he leaves. That will give me time to open the safe and take the painting.”

I said, “Sounds like a good plan.” The dark clouds were shifting overhead and a breeze stirred the ornamental shrubbery next to us. It was going to start raining again.

From the upper floor of the house, we saw a man and a woman come to the window. It looked like a couple of servants snatching a private moment. The man had his arm around the woman and she leaned into him. I couldn’t help myself and thought of Royce and Gwen. Would he want to settle down with her? Raise a family? It seemed unlikely, but Royce was changing into a new person around her. I was tired of agonizing over what their deepening relationship meant for our partnership. If things were going to change between us, I might as well face the new situation head on.

“Royce,” I began tentatively, “I was wondering what you thought of me … well … courting Emerald.”

“What?” Royce asked. He seemed completely caught off guard my change of subject. “Emerald?”

I stared and the ground, “Yeah, well, her real name is Falina Brockton, but she goes by Emerald now.” I was starting to ramble, “She’s the cute, tiny girl with lovely brown hair and big brown eyes. She works at the Rose and Thorn as a waitress. She’s always flirting with me, you know, like sitting on my lap, playing with my fingers, making all kinds of loaded suggestions and … well … “ I looked over to gauge how Royce was taking this. His face was blank and I couldn’t read him.

I plunged ahead, no turning back now, “... and since you’ve seemed to taken a fancy to Gwen I thought … well … you wouldn’t mind if I had some fun with Emerald every now and then.”

Understanding dawned on his face, “Hadrian, you can fool around with who ever you like. It’s not like we’re married or anything.” He paused and added seriously, “If you or I take a woman to our beds, it won’t change things between us. It won’t change our partnership.”

Relief washed over me and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. I gave him a lopsided grin.

I was about to say something, maybe make a joke about marriage to lighten the mood, when Royce suddenly stiffened. I could tell he heard something.

“What is it?” I asked, changing my stance to be on alert.

He answered, “Someone is coming, several men at arms on horseback.” He paused, listening more, “One of them has better armor and gear, a knight I think.”

Now I could hear the sound of hoof beats approaching from the road. I followed Royce to crouch down behind a low stone wall. The new arrivals were saying something. I couldn’t catch the words but it sounded like someone was demanding entrance.

Royce looked at me from under his hood. I could see his face was serious, “Sounds like a Seret knight and a few Nyprhon church guards. We have to act now.” He said.

“Okay,” I agreed. Before I could ask what I might do to distract everyone, Royce slipped away through the garden, his black cloak swaying behind him.

Thinking quickly, I crossed the yard and made for the side door to the kitchen. The cook, Betsy, and a couple of the maids were already clustered at the door, trying to get a peek at the new arrivals. She waved me over conspiratorially. I could see the knight, he was broad and wore black armor with a symbol of red broken crown. Five church guards in chainmail stood near him.

“Is that a Seret Knight?” one of the maids whispered. “I’ve never seen one before.”

Betsy, a large woman with a rosy complexion answered, “That’s what the man said and he certainly looks the part.” The knight and his men dismounted and walked to the front door.

Another maid whispered, “What would the church want with Lord Philip?” As we heard the front door open, we scurried into the kitchen. The church guards entered the foyer and the cook and the kitchen staff moved inside, listening at the hall door. I held back and moved to the large fireplace where leg of lamb was roasting on a spit.

I could hear Lord Philip demand, “Who are you and what is your business here?” He sounded outraged.

A strong baritone answered, “I am Sir Morgain, Sentinel of the Nyphron Church. I am here to route out heresy and protect the purity of the church. Lord Philip, you are under arrest for possession of banned material and intent to spread heretical ideology.”

I reach up and shut the flue. Unable to escape up through the chimney, smoke began to pour into the room. I grabbed some wood from the pile near the hearth and added it to the now smoky blaze. The servants had the door ajar and I could still hear the men talking in the entryway.

Philip protested, “No. There must be some mistake. I haven’t done anything wrong.” but he sounded less certain.

The Sentinel said, “You will hand over the so-called art now and stand trial in Ghent. If you do not turn over the item, you will be killed where you stand and we will be forced search the premise until we find it.”

Philip broke down, “It is in the safe in my study upstairs. Please don’t hurt me.” He pleaded.

I made my move. Shouting, “Fire!” I pushed my way past the group of servants clustered at the door, shoving my way into the hall. Betsy and the maids fell into the open doorway and spilled out with me. 

Lord Philip and the church guards turned to look at the commotion. I shouted “Fire!” again and pointed to where wisps of smoke trailed out from the kitchen. The broad dark man in the black armor narrowed his eyes but didn’t budge. He barked to his men, “Richards, hold Lord Philip. The rest of you, go take care of the fire.”

It took several minutes for the fire to be extinguished. Under the pretense of assisting, I took advantage of the chaos to open the flue again. 

The cook was baffled, “I have no idea what happened. I always tend the cook fire properly.”

The Sentinel suddenly looked like he suspected something and quickly ordered, “To the painting. Now!” He stomped up the stairs and the guards dragged Lord Philip along.

I hoped I had bought Royce enough time.

I went back out to the stables through the side door and waited out of sight, watching the front gates. A couple minutes later, Sir Morgain and his men brought Lord Philip out of the house. His hands were bound and I could hear him still pleading, “Why are you still arresting me? It is not here. I told you, it must have been Lady Audrey.”

A chill ran down my spine. Royce must have gotten the painting but Philip had implicated our employer. Lady Audrey was in trouble. I didn’t have my swords with me and there wasn’t time to retrieve them. I had to find a way to help her, and fast. 

The church guards shoved Philip onto a wagon. “Take him to the Cathedral.” Morgain ordered. “The rest of you with me.” The Sentinel and four of his men rode away, presumably to Audrey’s house.

I was unarmed and outnumbered. There was no way I couldn’t take on six well-trained guards of the Nyphron church, especially without Royce. Where was he?

Suddenly, as if reading my mind, Royce dropped down in front of me. He must have been on the roof of the stable.

I blurted out, “They’re going after Audrey. Philip told them she has the painting. We have to help her.”

Royce glared at me from under his hood. I knew didn’t understand, or like, what I was saying. He never stuck out his neck to help others unless there was a benefit to him. 

Royce was about to protest but I cut him off, “And don’t say it's not our problem. Dammit Royce! We don’t have time to argue about this.”

He sighed and said, “Fine.”

I followed him onto the street. I had no idea which way Sir Morgain and his men had gone, but I knew Royce could hear them. We jogged along wide cobblestone streets. The wind was chilly and a light rain began to fall.

A minute later we stopped outside a large stone house with imposing stone columns. A large fountain with a statue of a mermaid dominated the front garden. I recognized the six horses tied up in the yard as belong to the Sentinel and his men. 

As we sprinted towards the open front door Royce panted, “I’ll try to bargain with the knight.” His hood had fallen back as we’d ran and now he pulled it up again.

I was out of breath but huffed, “Right.” 

We raced up the steps and he said “You first,” falling in step behind me.

We stopped just inside the doorway, our boots leaving small wet marks on the marble floor. A servant huddled in a corner, staring at us. Two of the church guards were just inside. The moment they saw us they drew their swords. One went for Royce but he easily dodged aside, tripping the attacker as he passed. I ducked as the second guard swung wide with his sword and then I kicked him in the stomach. Instinctively, I turned just in time to catch the guard's blade that Royce threw to me. I blocked another thrust with the blade, pivoted and quickly slashed the back of the enemy’s knees. He cried out in pain and buckled. Then first guard grabbed at Royce from the floor. I slammed the pommel of my sword into the back of the guard’s head and he fell down, unconscious. Two down, four to go.

Royce paused, listening, then moved quickly down the corridor. I followed and kept the guard’s sword at the ready. Just before we reached a broad wooden door at the end of the passage, I heard a woman scream.


	4. Showdown

Royce stepped aside and again allowed me to enter the room first. I scanned the space. It was a lavish sitting room with red cushioned chairs, a matching low sofa and delicate end tables. Impressive paintings hung on all the walls and a magnificent wooden cabinet held numerous figurines. A small fire burned in a black marble fireplace nearby. 

Sir Morgain was standing in the middle of the room, holding Lady Audrey by the wrist. Blood ran down the corner of her mouth and she struggled to get a way. Three guards stood at attention, their hands on the hilts of their swords. 

“Stop!” I shouted. “Leave her alone.”

I could feel Royce just behind me, next to the fireplace. 

The knight’s eyes scanned us, assessing. “You have the painting?” He asked.

Royce moved slightly and it sounded like he pulled something out from his cloak. I kept my sword up and my eyes on the four armed men, ready to attack if they moved on Audrey or us.

Morgain demanded, “Give it to me, or I’ll kill this woman here and now.”

I heard Royce say in a casual way, “I don’t care one way or the other if you kill her, but I’ll give you this scrap of painted canvas for 30 gold tenets.”

Morgain barked a laugh, “You want me to pay you for it?”

I sensed Royce shrug, “We were hired to steal the painting. We did our job and we expect to be paid for the work.”

The knight shook his head. “I’d prefer to simply kill you and taking the painting off your dead body.”

I watched the guards’ breathing and posture. They were ready to pounce the moment Morgain gave the word. I could probably take down one or two quickly, but I sensed the Sentinel wouldn’t be easy to defeat. There was a good chance Royce, Audrey or I would get seriously hurt or killed if it came to a fight.

Royce’s tone turned threatening, “If you don’t pay us, I’ll destroy it.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him stretch out his hand and hold something, a large piece of paper or parchment, over the fire.

Morgain narrowed his eyes, his glance shifting from the Royce to the fire and back again. He growled. “You’re bluffing.” But I knew Royce never bluffed and his threats were never empty.

The second Royce let the parchment fall into the fire, I attacked. I anticipated the closest guard’s lunge forward and easily dodged. I judged the other’s momentum, shifted back. He moved just where I wanted him to then I slashed both of them across the chest in one broad sweep. I sensed Royce draw the Sentinel’s attention by feinting and weaving behind the sofa. Audrey moved against the wall, away from the fighting. The third guard came up behind Royce, but I spun around and intercepted his sword. As fast as lightning, Royce twisted to avoid the knight’s blade, and was forced back into a corner. I kicked the last guard in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. I saw Morgain drop his sword arm, ready to strike at Royce, but I also saw how he shifted his weight on the opposite foot and realized he would spin back to face me. At the last second I dropped and rolled, easily avoiding the sentinel’s blade. I made sure to move so that Royce could get a good view, and aim, on the knight’s back. But instead of throwing his dagger as I expected him to, Royce jumped up and carefully slipped Alverstone under the knight’s chin. 

Royce hissed, “Don’t move.” The knight froze.

I kicked the sword away from the guard who knelt on the ground, struggling to breath. I held my sword ready, in case he made a move against us. The two other men weren’t moving. Lady Audrey wrapped her arms about herself, obviously frightened, but she stayed quiet against the wall.

Morgain kept still but was breathing hard. “Fools! Killing me will accomplish nothing. You cannot hope to escape from the forces of the Nyphron church.”

I huffed, “Are you kidding? They couldn’t catch us the last time we upset the Nyphron church. How many of the church’s fighters did we kill two years ago?” 

I didn’t know what Royce was up to, but I knew it was best to support him and intimidate the knight. Winning a fight usually had more to do with how your opponent perceived the situation. The more we could shape his perceptions, the better. 

Royce picked up my thread and boasted, “We killed over a dozen Nyphron church guards and a Seret after we broke into the Crown Tower. Several were those fancy golden boys who personally guard the Patriarch. They never did find us and quit looking after a couple months. It was pathetic really.”

The knight said nothing but his shoulders slumped ever so slightly. I could tell he was losing confidence.

Royce continued calmly, “I would still prefer to make a profit off this venture so I give you a choice. You can agree to pay me and my partner the 30 tenets for our work or we can kill you. If you choose to pay our fee now, we may even consider working with you in the future.”

Skeptical but intrigued, Morgain asked, “What do you mean? You have nothing to offer me. Why on Elan would a Sentinel of the Nyphron church willingly pay for your services?”

Royce answered patiently, “Because, there are many other such heretical works of art still in private collections around Avryn. People like Lady Audrey and Lord Philip are only two examples of nobles that covet infamous works of art. It so happens that my partner and I have a habit of evaluating and unlawfully acquiring such valuables. If you agree to make it worth our while, we could make it a point to look for and pass along any other pieces the church might find … offensive.”

I suddenly understood Royce’s plan. We were still following the ‘distract and motivate’ tactic. The distraction didn’t seem to have worked, but we could still motivate the mark to not retaliate. If we played this out right, we might still make a good profit, even though the painting was gone.

Picking up where Royce had left off, I said, “That’s right. Didn’t we run across a questionable portrait of an ancient and powerful elf when we were hired to assassinate Lady Dulgath? I heard King Vincent was so offended by that painting, he nearly destroyed it himself.”

A moment passed before Morgain capitulated, “Very well. I agree to your terms.” Marabor’s Blessed Beard, but I could hardly believe my ears. Relief washed over me, but I stayed alert. 

Royce’s confident tone never wavered, “Good choice. Now drop your weapons, keep your hands up and slowly turn around.”

The knight did as he was told and Royce moved his dagger away from the man’s throat. “If you don’t mind, I’ll help you get your purse.” Royce reached down to the man’s belt and withdrew a heavy leather pouch. 

He handed the Sentinel’s purse to Audrey. “Would you please count out 30 gold pieces please?” He asked her. 

As she counted out the coin and placed the money on table, Royce said, “Lady Audrey will act as our broker. When we find a piece that might interest you, we will send it to her. She can contact you to negotiate a price. She will be paid fairly for our services and treated with respect. Understand?”

Audrey handed the purse, now significantly lighter, back to Royce who held it out to Morgain. The knight nodded addressed Audrey. “You may contact me at the regional Sentinel offices at Ervanon my lady.”

The knight turned and left without another word. Once the fighters we gone, having taken the bodies of the fallen with them, I came over to stand near Audrey. The woman looked awful and hadn’t moved. Her arms were still wrapped around herself and she was shaking slightly. I put my hand on her elbow and gently steered her to sit on the sofa. “It’s alright now Lady Audrey,” I said gently, “They’re gone. You’re safe now.”

She looked down at the floor, still scared, “I can’t believe … “ she started then stopped, “I never intended …” she stopped again. “Philip never should have…” She clutched at her arms. Her breath was coming fast and I wondered if she was about to cry.

Royce’s voice, cold and stern, cut in, “Who really painted that portrait? Was it you? How many more like it are out there?”

Audrey’s head snapped up, “You knew?

From under his hood, Royce nodded.

Now she did start to cry, words tumbling out of her along with her tears, “It’s what my family has done for generations. We have no land and need to generate income. Everyone thinks we’re great art hunters,” She gasped and continued to cry, “ Sometimes we do sell legitimate masterpieces, but it’s not a reliable thing and to make up the difference, we … we create some to sell.”

I searched around the room for something to wipe Audrey’s tears and snatched a lace doily from one of the small side tables. I handed her the cloth and repeated her words, “You created fakes to sell?”

She blew her nose and continued, calming down a bit, “Well not, me. My brother does it now and my uncle did before him. My uncle painted that particular one, the one with Narion and Jerish, about twenty years ago. If I’d know the noble he’d sold it to had died and his heirs were selling his collection at auction, my brother could have gone and bought it back.” She shook her head, “Marabor help us, but my uncle was a talented painter. He had quite a flare for finding subjects for his art that no one would dare want to show the light of day.”

Royce said, “Except that Philip did, or was about to.”

Audrey agreed, “Precisely. Our business worked well because everyone we ever sold pieces to kept the art secret, coveting their prized forbidden masterpieces in private. Philip is an idiot. That’s why I had to get it back. If other people, people who owned similar pieces, saw that work of art, I worried they might suspect us. We could be ruined.”

“Not to mention you’d get in trouble with the Nyphron church for salacious heresy.” Royce added.

Audrey took a deep breath, “Never again. I’ll not risk my life or my family. We’ll have to make due with legitimate art trade, no matter that it will be less lucrative.”

Royce said harshly, “No, you must continue making fakes, the more heretical the better.” 

Audrey stammered, “But, the Sentinel … he would kill us”

I jumped in trying to make her understand, “Royce is right. Your only guarantee of safety to keep a regular supply of banned art flowing to Sentinel Morgain. As long as you and your family have some value to him, the church won’t harm you. In fact, I expect he’ll even pay you.”

Royce added, “Just think of it as adding the Nyphon church to you list of clients eager for your unique art. The church is sure to keep the stuff secret and their pockets are deep.”

Lady Audrey sighed and sank back into the sofa, “I suppose you’re right. I don’t know how I’m going to explain it to my brother.”

Royce said, “Oh, and be sure to give Albert 15% of your profits.”

Lady Audrey sat up, “You mean, you expect to be paid, for my family continuing this charade?”

Royce sneered, “Yes, consider it as a brokerage fee.” He shook his head, “You should just be glad Morgain agreed to our terms. Otherwise you and your family would have lost everything.”

I said cheerfully, “Besides, you never know when Royce and I might actually come across a piece we can pass along.”

We left the large house and began walking back home. 

I asked Royce, “How are you Buddy? Not injured?”

“I’m fine, considering we’re 30 tenets richer and both still alive.” He’d taken off his hood and I could see he was pleased as punch with the outcome.

We walked along Artisan Row, heading back to the Lower Quarter. The rain had stopped, but the damp still hung in the air. It was past dusk and lamps were beginning to be lit in the buildings along the road. 

I said, “Hard to believe there was so much fuss about a painting. I mean, I can’t imagine wanting to kill someone over a piece of art.”

“It wasn’t just the art, it was the idea it represented. The church needs to control how Novron and his descendants are portrayed.” Royce said.

I muttered, “Yeah, I suppose the church likes to control everything.”

We entered the Lower Quarter, the familiar scents of urine and rotten food barely hung in the air, having mostly been washed away in the rain. Royce said, “I have to admit, I’m rather fond of the portrait. Audrey wasn’t kidding about her uncle have great talent. Gwen said I should show it to you before she has it framed and hangs it up in her room.”

“Wait a minute. You have the painting?” I stopped in my tracks and said confused, “I thought you burned it back at Audrey’s house in front of the Sentinel.”

He stopped too and smirked at me, “Not exactly. That was a copy I’d asked Helder to make the night after Albert told us about the job. The moment I saw it, I liked it so much, I wanted to keep it for myself. I figured I could give the fake to Audrey.”

I stared at Royce, trying to wrap my head around what he’d just said. “You mean the painting Philip had in his safe the last few days was a fake and you’d already stolen the original … because you liked it so much?” It was all so absurd, I started to laugh, “I had no idea you were an art lover Royce.”

He grinned at me, “Do you want to see it?”

“Are you kidding, I’m dying to see it.”

Entering through the back of the Rose and Thorn, we went round to the Dark Room. I lit a lamp while Royce opened the storage chest that he kept our gear in. He pulled out a rolled-up piece of canvas and spread it out on the table.

“By Mar!” I exclaimed. The painting showed two men facing each other. One man was tall and broad, clearly a powerful fighter, with a large sword strapped to his back. The other was smaller and wore a cloak and a crown. They were leaning into each other, their foreheads touching, the man with the crown had his hand resting possessively one the larger man’s neck. The resemblance to Royce and I was uncanny. Other than the crown the smaller man wore, everything about the men, their sizes, their expressions, even their closeness, felt just like us. If Audrey hadn’t told me the painting was created years ago, I’d have sworn the artist had used Royce and I as models.

At first I felt a rush of pride that Royce had felt an immediate attachment to the painting, but then I remembered what he’d said.

“Wait. Gwen wants to have this framed to hang in her room?” I asked, “Does she know about us, I mean, she’s not jealous?”

Royce replied, his tone amused, “This is Gwen we’re talking about. You do realize she pretty much knows everything.” He paused and shook his head. Be sounded more serious. “I know I don’t deserve it, but she loves me, even seeing me exactly as I am. She loves you too, in a way, because you make me better.”

I was quiet for a moment, not wanting to say anything stupid. I settled on, “You’re lucky to have her.”

“I’m lucky to have both of you.” Royce said softly and put a hand on my shoulder.

We stood together, admiring the painting for a few more minutes before he rolled the canvas back up and put it away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My photoshop skills are poor, but I just had to take a stab at creating something that resembled the painting in this story. 


End file.
